


Atlas

by Newtgitsune



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Flower Crowns, Flowers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, but it's mostly fluff, flangst, newtmas - Freeform, some light angst at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:32:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newtgitsune/pseuds/Newtgitsune
Summary: Thomas carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, but luckily, Newt is there to help him bear the burden.Or, flower crown fluff.





	Atlas

The low-hanging branches snagged on his clothes and scratched his face as he forced his way through, fleeing into the forest, away from the others, away from the looks, questions, doubts, worries. Away from it all.    
  
“Thomas, what if we run into a Griever?”   
“What if the Cliff is not the way out?”   
“What if we don’t make it?”   
“What do we do?”   
  
_ I don’t know. _

 

He had repeated his answer countless times, and every time he was met with raised eyebrows and scared faces, and he’d put on his mask and make up a plan, tell everyone that they would be okay, that they were all going to make it, that everything was alright.   
  
It wasn’t.   
  
He didn’t know if they were all going to make it. He couldn’t be sure if the Cliff was their escape from this place. He had no idea what they were supposed to do if it wasn’t. He pretended to know, pretended to be their leader, the one to guide them to freedom. But he wasn’t, he didn’t know how, he  _ couldn’t be.  _   
  
Thomas carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and now his arms were shaking, his muscles acidifying, his legs buckling under the pressure. 

 

He dropped down onto the ground with a soft whimper, his arms stretched out before him to catch himself as he fell. His knees hit the grass, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the tears back down. His hands balled into fists around the tufts of grass underneath, the fragile blades snapping off as his knuckles turned white. His breaths were heavy but shallow, oxygen filling his lungs, but never letting him breathe. His shoulders tensed and relaxed, his arms trembled as they kept him up, and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep  _ this _ up. How long he could play Atlas before the world tumbled off his shoulders, and crashed and burned right in front of his eyes.    
  


His eyes shot open when he felt a gentle touch on his right cheek.   
  
Even though his vision was blurry and the ground was shaking under his feet, Thomas would always recognize Newt. He was crouching down in front of him, running his thumb along Thomas’s cheekbone.    
  
“Hey, Tommy, look at me.” he spoke in a hushed whisper, just loud enough so Thomas could understand the words. “Just breathe, okay? Breathe with me.”    
  
Newt took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then released it again. Thomas tried to follow his lead, but it wouldn’t work.

 

_ This wouldn’t work, they weren’t going to make it, he’d lead them straight to their deaths, all of them- _ __  
__  
“Newt, I can’t..” he gasped, and Newt shook his head.    
“No, Tommy, you can. Okay? Try it again. Slow and steady breaths. Focus on me.” 

  
Thomas forced himself to nod, and he breathed in, and somehow, this one came more slowly, and a bit of the water in his lungs evaporated, giving him space to breathe.   
  
“There we go. You can do this. Come on. One more time.” Newt’s voice was soft, and yet it managed to be loud enough to block out all of the other sounds of the Glade. 

 

He breathed in.   
  
And out,   
  


in,

 

and out.   
  
“Newt,” Thomas whispered, and a small smile spread across Newt’s face.

 

“You’re doing great, Tommy,” he replied, running his finger along his cheek once again, the motion forcing his shoulders to relax.   
  
Thomas let his head hang low, breathing in shakily. “Newt, I can’t do this,” he mumbled, his voice raspy. “I can’t get us out of here, I don’t know what I’m doing..”

 

Newt moved his hand, propping it up under Thomas’s chin, gently pushing up. “Hey, I know you’re scared. We all are. But you’ve done more for us than pretty much anyone else has in the past three years. If there’s anyone who can lead us out of here, it’s you.”    
  
Thomas stayed silent, his eyes locked with Newt’s. Newt paused a moment before continuing.   
  
“The Gladers aren’t stupid. They know what they’re getting into. They know that the Maze is dangerous, and that the way out will be just the same. And even though they’re following you, you’re not responsible for them.”    
  
Thomas swallowed, drawing in another weak breath.

  
“Tommy, you don’t have to do this alone.” Newt whispered. “I’m here.”   
  
He flicked his eyes down at the grass, only now releasing the spears trapped in his fists. Loose blades fell out of his grip onto the ground, some of them sticking to his fingers.   
  
Newt shifted, sitting down and crossing his legs. He removed his hand from under Thomas’s chin and Thomas almost leaned forward, almost chased after his touch. Instead, he followed Newt’s example, leaning back and folding his legs. His shoulders ached, the tension making his muscles cramp up. He ignored it and instead, he focused on Newt. Focused on the sunlight filtering through the leaves, breaking up, specks of light accentuating the golden strands in his  blond hair. Focused on his slender hands, how his fingers plucked one of the tiny yellow flowers scattered across the clearing they were sat in. Focused on Newt’s voice, how gentle it was, a foreign, but pleasant accent lacing his every word.    
  
“Ya know how to make a flower crown?”   
  
The question surprised Thomas, and he hesitated before shaking his head. “No.” 

 

Newt smiled, and the weight pressing down on him suddenly seemed to get a lot lighter.

 

“I’ll teach you.” Newt offered, and Thomas shrugged before nodding, leaning forward, eyes on Newt’s hand as he twirled the flower around between his fingers. 

 

Newt plucked another flower, a daisy, this time, connecting the two together with practiced ease. He held up the flowers and Thomas frowned at the sight- one stem seemed to have been split, with the other flower threaded through it.    
  
Newt reached over and picked two more, handing them over to Thomas. “Now you try.” 

 

Thomas stared at the buttercups in his hands, unsure what to do with them. He heard Newt chuckle and scoot closer, and suddenly, a pair of hands were on his own, taking his fingers, guiding them. His nail pushed into the stem of one of the flowers, creating a loop, and the other was passed through.    
  
“It’s not that hard. You just have to get the hang of it.” Newt’s voice was a lot closer than Thomas had expected, and he looked up, meeting Newt’s eyes. The sunlight hit his irises, bronze flecks scattered throughout the dark brown catching the light in such a way that made it almost impossible for Thomas to look away.    
  
And so he didn’t.   
  
He barely even saw the red flush spreading across Newt’s cheeks, but when he did, he also noticed the freckles that dotted his face. He hadn’t seen those before.   
  
Thomas made a mental note to look more closely in the future.   
  
Newt had now cast his eyes down at the flowers again, and Thomas managed to tear his eyes away from the view and look down to see that he’d connected the four flowers, and was now adding more to them, the chain steadily getting longer.    
  
Thomas just watched, but he kept his hands in the same place, electricity coursing through his veins every time Newt’s fingers accidentally brushed his.    
  
They seemed to be doing that more often than necessary, and Thomas couldn’t say he minded.    
  
Newt connected the first and the last flower, pushing the stem through the first loop and twisting them together to secure it. He picked a cluster of little blue ones, snapping off the flowers at the end of their thin stems and threading them into the completed chain where it seemed to be lacking. Thomas stared at the crown, amazed at Newt’s unexpected expertise- the flowers Thomas had recognised as forget me nots perfectly complemented the buttercups and white daisies that formed the foundation of the chain, adding bursts of colour in between the paler base.

  
Newt looked up at Thomas with a soft smile, and he raised the crown, resting it on Thomas’s head. The second the flowers touched his hair, Thomas felt a light blooming in his chest, driving away the suffocating darkness that had been weighing down on him before.

 

“It looks great on you,” Newt said in a voice so soft that it’d be difficult to hear, if Thomas hadn’t been sitting with his knees touching Newt’s, the contact sending waves of heat through his body. The warm rays of the sun beaming down onto his skin were nothing compared to the blazing current surging through his bloodstream. Thomas felt Newt’s hot breath on his face, and he breathed in himself, smelling the faint scent of earth and mint, sensing the ground beneath him, the blades of grass tickling his bare ankles. A smile tugged at his lips, and the light in Newt’s eyes, his proud grin, their closeness, all of it made the whole world seem okay again. 

 

The flower crown sagged down onto his forehead, white and yellow petals falling into his eyes, breaking up the clear sight he had of Newt. Thomas chuckled softly and reached up to push it back in its place, but before he could even move his arm, Newt was there. His fingers brushed along Thomas’s forehead, moving the crown up back into his hair, and his hand lowered, the tips of his fingers ghosting over his skin, never breaking contact. His touch ignited sparks under Thomas’s skin and pulled the air from his lungs, only this time, he craved the sensation. His eyes locked with Newt’s, the sound of his own heartbeat roaring in his ears, his blood coursing through his veins like liquid fire.

 

The only time he looked away was to glance at Newt’s mouth.

 

Then his eyes fluttered shut, and his body was on fire, the inferno born from Newt’s lips on his flaring through him, burning away every doubt, every question, every thought other than  _ Newt.  _ The taste of mint washed over him, making his head spin, and he leaned into the fingers that lingered on his cheek, moving his own hand up to cup Newt’s jaw. 

 

He’d lost all sense of time, and after what felt like a small infinity, he pulled away, carefully reopening his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked at Newt, and the world seemed to slow down, their surroundings blurring away into the background, the only clear picture being that of Newt, his pupils blown wide, only a small ring of golden brown visible around the black. Newt’s lips were parted ever so slighty, soft breaths escaping them, and Thomas wondered how he even  _ had _ air left in his lungs- he definitely didn’t.   
It was probably because Newt had stolen every breath he had managed to refill Thomas’s lungs with what felt like a lifetime ago.

 

His hand slowly released its hold on Newt’s jaw, moving down, but Newt intervened, gripping Thomas’s wrist and shooting forward, crashing his lips onto Thomas’s again. With it, the fire came flooding back, somehow even more intense than before, and Thomas snaked his free arm around Newt’s waist, pulling him in, the kiss giving him everything he never knew he needed; but it was still lacking, the connection not enough, never enough.

 

Newt moved with his touch, loosening his grip on Thomas’s wrist, both his arms curling around his shoulders, their chests touching, white heat blooming at every contact point, spreading through Thomas’s body in a brilliant blaze.

 

He opened his mouth, and Newt immediately responded, taking the movement as an invitation for him to explore, their tongues soon dancing around each other. It was messy,  _ they  _ were messy, but Thomas had never felt more complete.

 

Newt pushed on, and in a moment of weakness Thomas lost his balance, toppling backwards, pulling Newt with him. His back hitting the soft grass and Newt’s weight falling on top of him caused him to break their kiss, a quiet gasp escaping his lips as he did so.    
  


Thomas forced his eyes open, only to be met with a wide grin and low chuckles. The sound was contagious, and soon, Thomas was laughing along with Newt, burying his face in the crook of his shoulder, cheeks heating in embarrassment. Or excitement.   
Both, probably.

 

“Smooth,” he eventually whispered against Newt’s skin, followed by the immediate urge to punch himself in the face for deciding to express such an inarticulate comment.

However, that urge soon vanished as the thought had elicited a giggle from Newt’s throat, and his heart jumped, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

 

“Very.” Newt mumbled, his lips brushing against Thomas’s ear making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He took a shaky breath, fighting to keep his composure as he leaned back and eyed Newt, their foreheads touching, breathing in each other’s air, eyes never leaving each other.    
  
Thomas’s heartbeat blocked out every other noise, the thumping deafening as Newt leaned in again to press one more soft, slow kiss on his lips. It was tender, grounding, although Thomas’s head was lost in the clouds and wasn’t planning on coming back down anytime soon.    
  
Their noses brushed against one another, and Thomas felt Newt’s legs tightening around his waist, his own hands fisting the fabric of Newt’s shirt, pulling him in close. Their chests were pressed together, bodies connected in as many points as possible in the position they were in, and Thomas wouldn’t have it any other way.   
  
Unfortunately, one needed oxygen to stay alive.

  
Thomas pulled back and inhaled Newt’s air, tasting the mint on his tongue, the fire in his veins never dimming, dying embers sparking back to life under Newt’s fingertips running along his cheek.    
  
He looked to the side, his heart protesting at the loss of Newt in his vision, his eyes scanning the field. He spotted a yellow daisy nearby, its bright petals standing out against the grass. Thomas reached over and snapped off the stem, now turning his head back to Newt after what seemed way too long. He smiled as he brushed a lock of hair behind Newt’s right ear, followed by the flower. 

  
The brightness of Newt’s smile sent a wave of strangely calming flames through him.

  
“There. Now we match.” he whispered, and Newt chuckled. 

  
“No we don’t. You look better.” 

  
Thomas snickered, his grin widening. “That’s because you made the crown.”   
  
Newt lightly slapped Thomas on the chest, leaning forward and hiding his face in Thomas’s neck, muttering a soft  _ stop it. _ __  
__  
“What? It’s the truth,” Thomas defended his statement. The feeling of Newt’s breath on his neck as he laughed, the daisy’s petals brushing against his throat, made his skin tingle and his mind hazy. 

 

Newt looked up at him through his lashes, his lips parted in a shy grin. Thomas smiled back, resting his hand on his lower back, running his thumb over the clothed skin in repetitive circular motions. 

 

"How did you learn how to make flower crowns?" Thomas whispered, taking the crown off his head and studying it, careful not to bruise any of the fragile petals. The creation showed obvious practice, every flower placed with intent, indicating that Newt had done this before- although Thomas had never seen him wear one. Or anyone else, for that matter.

 

Newt's smile disappeared and he cast his eyes down, and Thomas immediately regretted the question, a painful pang shooting through his chest. "I'm- I'm sorry, am I asking too much?" he asked, his voice soft.

 

Newt shook his head and Thomas couldn't help but breathe out a sigh in relief. "I taught myself," Newt started, now looking at the crown as well. He rested the side of his head on Thomas's chest, his hand curled around the nape of his neck.

 

"A while ago I.." he took a deep breath. "I wasn't doing so great. I won't go into detail, but I was in a pretty dark place." he bit on his lip, his eyes glazing over a bit. "And then I found this spot. The peace, the flowers... they were calming, grounding, in a way. I don't know, it sounds stupid." Newt huffed out a half-hearted laugh.

 

"No, it's not," Thomas immediately piped up. “None of this is stupid.” he moved his hand from his lower back to Newt's forehead, stroking his bangs to the side. Newt glanced up, his lips pursed together in a tight smile, before flicking his eyes down at the flowers again. 

 

"Anyway," he said as he breathed in, "I just started messing around with them. They made me realise that, even though we're stuck in this… this hellhole, there's still beauty in the world. You just have to find it. Or make your own, sometimes." he reached out, taking the flower crown out of Thomas's hand and placing it back on his head. 

 

"And now we've found each other," Thomas said, and the smile that never failed to make Thomas’s heart flutter reappeared on Newt’s face.

 

"Yeah. We have," Newt whispered back, sliding his hand away from Thomas’s neck to cup his cheek.

 

He leaned forward and connected their lips, humming against Thomas's mouth, then breaking the kiss with a smile. 

 

To Thomas's dismay, Newt rolled off him, landing on his back on Thomas's left side. The absence of Newt's weight pressed on him was somehow even more suffocating. 

Then Newt took Thomas's hand in his, his thumb running over his, their fingers laced together in a tight grip with no intent of ever letting go. 

 

Newt's head turned to the side, leaning on Thomas's shoulder, both of their eyes fixed on the canopy above them. The bright yellow sunlight had turned a soft golden colour, the rays breaking up into tiny pools of gilded light as it shone through the trees and lit up the clearing. 

 

Thomas smiled contently. He squeezed Newt's hand, moving his own head to rest onto Newt's, his hair tickling Thomas's cheek. He breathed out, the sensation of drowning in his panic almost forgotten.

 

Even though Thomas could still feel the world pressing down on his shoulders, he could carry it almost effortlessly, as long as Newt would be there by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> "And then they fucked and everything was beautiful." ~ someone in the doc I don't know who put it there but I agree
> 
> So, this is the first fluff I've ever written. It was a problem. I write too much angst. So, have this 
> 
> Thanks SO MUCH to Dreams, Rach, Jo, and Faia for helping me with this! I wasn't feeling too good about this whole thing and they've helped me SO MUCH I love you guys <3 <3 I don't deserve you
> 
> Please let me know what you think! Kudos, comments and feedback are always appreciated!  
> Thanks so much for reading! <3


End file.
